Consumption
by Bedraggled Atelier 2
Summary: AU Ukitake had TB and was quarantined in a locked shed until pillagers unlocked the door, giving Ukitake his freedom. He found refuge in the unfinished shrine and awoke as a kamisama, one with a human need for food and water. He later meets Shunsui, the spiritually sensitive 2nd son of a noble family who have taken hold of the land. Ukitake/Shunsui, slash
1. Chapter 1

This year's crop was small as drought had taken its toll. There was little to feed the families, never mind the few cattle that a select few families were lucky to secure from their dangerous trade with thieves. The villagers had been desperate, on the brink of starvation if they stayed put. The risk of trading with those band of thieves was greater than that of a village protected by wealthy lords, armed with trained militants. Every so often, they would receive a visit, a traveling merchant. But this time, a member of the village miles across the great river arrived at their village. Rumors of pillaged villages, hundreds of corpses from starvation or murder, and kidnappings had reached every family by the end of the month. A small assembly had been called, and most the villagers were there, sitting in the circle around dried fruit and tea or crammed at the entrance, looking in.

No one had an appetite. The area was thick with uncertainty and blanketed fear.

"You've brought destruction on us!" cried an middle aged man, known for being hot headed and impatient but not generally unkind. "You've lead them to us."

He said the last sentence with a pained cry, like the sound a defeated deer made when shot with an arrow. After he spoke, there was tension in the room. Anger and fear felt like the only emotion anyone could feel.

"It's already done," said a woman in her prime. "Can't be undone."

There was a murmur, a consensus. It was true, but it felt hopeless. What could be done? The thieves had raided several villages, even the more armed village westward. If they failed, what could a small village like theirs can do? The refugee had fled prior to their attack of his village. It had taken him a week's time to wander here. Soon, the raiders would arrive. They had to abandon their village. There was nothing here now. No healthy land for crops, only houses, which they can rebuild, and an unfinished shrine.

The villagers went home and prepared for dinner. The next morning there was a great hurry to pack for the trip at the end of the week. Food had to be packed. Carts were attach to cattle, made to carry the load.

Inside a shed, once made for bags of rice, was empty except a young man, thin and gaunt with long hair and long nails, as there was no one to trim them and no need for it. Looking presentable wasn't his aim; it was surviving. He had taken ill with a respiratory disease and had been quarantined in a shed by his caretaker, an acquaintance of his late father, to prevent the spread to other villagers and the ill omen they believed he carried with him. He heard a lot of noise throughout that week but had no inkling as to the trouble facing the village.

There was little food coming as of late, but there was even less food this week. His caretaker had forgotten to feed him at times, often sending children later with apologies from uncle for the late meal. The children were frightened of him and would quickly open the wooden latch before tossing in leftovers into the room as if he were a stray dog.

He was tired. He wanted to ask where his caretaker was, but the children had already fled.

That was his last meal, and most of it was scattered on the ground. He had feared that they were would coming in less and less and had rationed his food, taking small bites and small sips of water. By now, most of the food had rotted, and the water in his bowl was home to flies. The stench was unbearable, and he wanted to get out, but the door was locked, wedged shut by a large piece of wood.

But rain arrived that day, after a long time without it. Ukitake reached out the gap in the shed and cup water in his palm. He brought it to his lips and took eager sips before reaching out again.

The next day, the wedged was removed and the door opened. Ukitake felt a rush of hope. Was it a doctor? Was his illness over? Had they found a cure?

The group scanned the room, taking in the dry blood on his clothes and grimaced. "Nothing here but a dead man," called one.

Ukitake felt like heart sink. There was anger coursing through his body. He wasn't dead. He was-

"He's still alive."

"Not for long. Leave him and close the door."

Their footsteps conceded quickly, but their laughter and crude jokes took longer to fade. From their conversation, he knew that his villagers had fled. Their department was marked by the smell of smoke. Once again, he was encased in dimness, but there was sunlight peaking through the door. They had not locked it.

He stood up, feeling dizzy from the sudden rise and inched closer to the door, pushing his weight onto the door and welcoming the outside world for what seemed to have been eternity of wasting away.

His village had become a ghost town, devoid of the living (and Ukitake was hardly living, as the pillagers had mentioned). Many of the houses had been burned, blackened to the core and engraved with the lingering smell of smoke. Ukitake felt pangs of hunger but didn't dare enter the few left standing to scrounge for food like the pillagers before him. These people had fed and sheltered him in his dire need, and he wished to give them his utmost respect. But respect required another, more difficult feat: possibly burying the body of the dead. He knew he couldn't leave their bodies there to rot, but he had for so long evaded death that the possibility of looking death in the eyes, of seeing the dead bodies of his villagers chilled him to the bones. He went to each house, most were burnt but some were unscathed as if the owners had simply left for the day, pushing open doors and pull curtains back.

Everyone had left.

He felt relieved and alone.

The was unbearable. The day was cold, and the air was damp. His respiratory disease had reacted to the environment and became active, making it difficult for him to breath without heaving. He knew he needed a place to stay, but it felt wrong to stay in someone else's house in their absence and to dirty their homes with disease.

He wandered towards the unfinished shrine. When the crops were abundant, there was no time to complete it, but there was no enthusiasm or energy to complete it during the drought. His knees were faltering to his weight, but he urged it to continue. He was already through the Tori gate and would soon reach the steps towards the shrine, where he collapsed inside the shrine.

 _No one lives here_ , Ukitake thought, _I can rest here for a while._


	2. Chapter 2

No one lived in the shrine until the arrival of Ukitake, the land's new kamisama, whose origins as a human still haunted him. It had only been a few years since that day. It had been both a blessing and a curse to become the land's kamisama. His body felt light, free of disease, and the world felt like a safe place, but at times it was much too safe. To the humans, Ukitake was untouchable and invisible, a being a step above them. And Ukitake, who was not completely detached from the living world, longed for human companions.

Drought had long been forgotten by the land. With Ukitake's blessings, the land that his villagers once inhabited flourished with greenery and overgrown with rice plants from the planted seeds they had left behind, attracting the attention of the well armed Kyōraku family. Several plots of land had been rewarded to the Kyōraku family either as gifts or as trade for protection from thieves, bandits, and youkai. The expansion of their family from the south to the east had exhausted their supplies, making it a crucial year for prosperity. And they had a keen eye on Ukitake's uncontrolled and abandoned lands.

They hoped to implement an improved irrigation system and several other changes to ensure great crops yearly and made a visit to the area's shrine to pray for blessings in their endeavors. Once they entered through the Tori gate, all was calm like an undisturbed oasis in the forest where only gentle woodland ran freely (and perhaps a few not so gentle animals attracted to the flesh of prey). Unbeknownst to the humans, the kamisama of the shrine was watching them, gliding beside their men and women. Ukitake was delighted to welcome the large group, expecting their arrival for days now after one of theirs had stumbled upon his shrine, and fully focused on the offerings of fruits, cabbage, and fish that they carried with them on wooden trays.

His familiar, a lion dog named Jun, was also pleased to at their arrival, hoping that his master would treat him today with the offerings. Jun did not require sustenance to survive, but his master Ukitake did. For some reason, they could not discover, Ukitake continued to have a strong need for human food and water on a yearly basis, but several years had pass, and he could feel the ache of hunger that seemed to hollow out his insides, leaving him fatigued and his senses dull. He hadn't realize he could feel those human sensations even as a divine being.

"The food looks delicious," said Ukitake to Jun.

"Fish, fish, fish," Jun chanted, licking his chomps and whimpering.

The ceremony had come after a moment's hesitation. Ukitake could feel concern racing through the group as they took in the state of the shrine. It was covered in vines and autumn's decaying leaves uncovered by melting snow. Unkept and empty, it felt almost eerie to the visitors.

'Is this a cursed town?' They thought but said nothing, wary of even their thoughts, and clasped their hands and bowed their heads in prayer.

"Cursed?" Ukitake said, knowing that his words could not be heard by the humans. "No cursed land has crop this plentiful."

'Please, kamisama,' Ukitake heard as loudly as if it was spoken with a shout. 'I pray that you bless our family with prosperity.'

This thought was coming from a young man, who looked to have been the same age of Ukitake, with a sharp jawline crusted with facial hair and high cheekbones. This was a man who had journeyed outside often, soaking in the sun's rays, instead of being coddled and protected inside. He was dark enough that Ukitake had assumed he was a servant to the family (a militant, especially, as they were known to train and live in rough conditions) until the white haired kamisama heard the collective wishes of the group.

This young man was named Kyōraku, Shunsui, the second son of the noble family.

"Why are you here?" asked Ukitake. Although he was no longer human and knew they couldn't hear him, Ukitake found himself talking to them anyway, longing for a reply to initiate a conversation. As Ukitake had found, old habits die hard. "Where is your father?"

Shunsui looked up, catching Ukitake's eyes as if he could see the spirit, but he was unperturbed. Ukitake felt his heart leap.

"I am here on my father's behalf, kamisama." said Shunsui, breaking the silence with his loud voice. "Please accept these as tokens of our respect and may you favor us for the years to come."

Ukitake was surprised by rise in volume, having spent years in the emptiness devoid of human companionship. Shunsui's servants broke out in smiles although they listened intently to their young lord's request.

Ukitake nodded. "I will grant this for you. Thank you for the meal."

Shunsui's gaze return to the kamisama, and his lips curved upwards. There was no doubt in Ukitake's mind now that this man could see him.

Once the group left, Ukitake and Jun were prepared to eat the offerings. Ukitake reached towards the orange, but his hands slipped through it like wind. He tried again with the same result.

"There is food before a starving man," said Ukitake. "But he cannot eat it. Perhaps this place is cursed."

"Not man," reminded Jun, placing his head on Ukitake's lap.

Ukitake patted the lion dog's thick auburn hair and smiled. "No, I'm not a man. Not even human."

* * *

Ukitake attempted to enter the Kyōraku's household to find the second son but found that he was forbidden to enter. The family had no shrines erected in his name yet, he assumed, so direct access from his shrine to their house was almost impossible but that shouldn't have deterred him from entering it completely.

"Young lord, second son of the Kyōraku family, please come speak with me. I cannot enter," Ukitake said.

No response.

"Young lord," shouted at the entrance, mimicking Shunsui's manner at his shrine. "I wish to speak with you."

He repeated it. "Kyōraku, Shunsui, second son-"

And then he heard from the other side of the fortress. "Please let me through. I have business with a spirit."

"Is there someone here now?" asked the guard. "A bad spirit?"

"No," Shunsui reassured him. "A friendly spirit."

The door opened, revealing the second son of the family, in an elaborate orange kimono made of fine silk. His hair was not long and tied but cut short with loose, wavy strands, the opposite of the the proper manner. It was his garment that symbolized his status where his behaviors and hairstyle did not, although he wore it incorrectly. A second son with no responsibilities, away from his family and living in a makeshift fortress. What had he done to be sent away?

"It's an honor to meet you," said Shunsui, dipping his head in respect. He turned to the guard. "Please give us some privacy."

"You don't behave much like a noble," Ukitake noticed.

"And neither do you as a sacred god of the land," said Shunsui. He felt bolder around this spirit and felt instantly comfortable around him. "I suspect no spiritual being meets humans in this way, shouting for them at the door."

"I was locked out, and I wished to meet you," deadpanned Ukitake.

Shunsui hummed, acknowledging his words but not his logic.

"What is it?" asked Ukitake, floating closer to the man with curiosity.

"As a sacred and spiritual being, it was in your realm to enter your followers' homes so long as you had no ill intent," Shunsui stated.

"I harbor no ill intent," said Ukitake. "I only wish to request that you accompany me back to the shrine."

Shunsui raised an eyebrow. "Why leave the shrine to ask me to usher you back?"

Ukitake ignored that comment. "The offerings you gave me. I would like to eat them, but I cannot seem to touch them."

"Request denied," Shunsui said. "It's dark now. It isn't safe for me to journey to the shrine alone unless I wake up the servants from their slumber."

"No," said Ukitake. "Let have their sleep."

"If that is all, I bid my leave," said Shunsui, bowing again.

"That is all, for today. But...tomorrow? Will you be able tomorrow?"

Shunsui agreed, and Ukitake returned to his shrine, but the young lord did not visit him the next day as he had promised nor the day after that. Ukitake had begun to suspect that Shunsui wouldn't follow out on his request, choosing to live over-indulgently without responsibilities of any kind, but the man proved him wrong. He had arrived a month after Ukitake's visit, citing reasons that surprised Ukitake, given the bluntness in their nature.

"It was extremely hot out," said Shunsui. "Please lower the temperature, if you can."

"It's the ideal weather for summer," said Ukitake, confused.

"See? That's why, my lord, everyone wanted to me to join them outside. I had to oblige."

"Never mind," said Ukitake. "You are here now."

Shunsui sat on the ground, sipping a small bottle of sake and wrecking of alcohol. Ukitake wasn't sure if he should continue, but Shunsui made a small sound of acknowledgement so he did. "Hm."

"I need to eat human food, but I cannot touch it as a spirit."

"Why am I here?" asked Shunsui, bored.

"I presumed it was to help me. Am I wrong?"

"Shouldn't it be the other way around?" said Shunsui.

Ukitake said, firmly. "You are my follower, the only one who is aware of me."

"You should be helping your followers, am I right or wrong? And right now, you're a bother with your demands."

"I requested, not ordered you to be here," Ukitake argued. "You agreed."

"You're right. Completely right." Shunsui eyes twinkled playfully and his cheeks growing red form the alcohol. "What's your problem? Can't eat? Why not? All you have to do is..." Shunsui grabbed a handful of dried fish and launched himself on a surprised Ukitake, attempting to stuff the snack into his mouth. The young noble only succeeded in crushing the young god with his weight and dispersing a large amount of salted, tiny fishes onto Ukitake's robes.

"Get off of me!" Ukitake squirmed.

"One fell into your robe." Shunsui, in his drunken stupor, tried to retrieve the snack for the kamisama, tugging at the others clothing and trying to reach inside, but Ukitake grabbed the offending hand and shoved the dark haired man off.

"Enough!" Ukitake demanded, offended at Shunsui's behavior. "You may go."

Ukitake decided then that he despised the second son and had a very good idea as to the reason Shunsui was banished from his family. Ukitake had no concept of the upperclass lifestyle in his human life, having spent his years living impoverished, but he doubted that Shunsui's behavior would be acceptable among nobility. Yet, there he was, treating Ukitake as less than his equal. If Ukitake could, he would curse the young lord.

But Shunsui made no move to return home.

"Leave!" Ukitake warned.

"Or what?" Shunsui challenged. "What can you do to me? Can you really harm a human being, kamisama?"

Ukitake summons a large gust of wind, forcing through the shrine doors and out of the spirit world. Shunsui landed with a thud and started shouting obscenities on sacred ground. "What?" Shunsui directed at Ukitake. "I'm unwelcomed now? A few words and you're ruffled up?"

Ukitake stood his ground, ignoring Shunsui.

His lion dog had wandered into the room and licked at the dried fish sadly.

"You can't eat that either, can you?"

The lion dog whimpered and nudged Ukitake's hand, urging him to pet the familiar. He purred as Ukitake scratched behind his ears. His familiar was his constant companion and during moments like these Ukitake was grateful for Jun.

Shunsui had gone quiet outside, but Ukitake could feel his presence like dying embers and dripping venom and anguish. 'Please,' Ukitake heard. 'Please. Please." Shunsui had clasped his hands together and prostrated in front of the shrine. It was a wish Ukitake didn't understand, as the young lord refused to share his memories, but he could feel Shunsui's emotions of guilt and vulnerability, apologetic but not towards Ukitake, which irked him a bit. It felt like he was imprisoned by fate, helpless to its tests and fearful of the sacrifices made to complete them and the consequences should he fail to. Afraid of losing more, of losing everything.

"He hasn't left," said Ukitake, quietly.

"Shunsui, outside," the lion dog barked.

"Do you think I should leave him there? He'll get up in the morning."

The lion dog whimpered. "Not safe."

"It's safe enough."

"Cold," the dog tried again.

"It's not cold either."

"Bugs," the lion dog said.

Ukitake sighed. "There are bugs," he agreed. "We should let him in. Tomorrow, he'll be gone."

Ukitake stepped out of the shrine. "You are welcomed inside."

Shunsui nodded but remained planted on the spot.

"There are bugs here," said Ukitake.

"I'll like to remain."

"Shall I leave the door open?" Ukitake asked.

"And what if I attacked you, my lord?" said Shunsui.

"I am not comfortable enough in your presence to be without a guard."

"I see," said Shunsui. "Can you turn off the lights?"

"It's dark out," said Ukitake.

"It'll be morning soon. I don't want to miss the night's sky."

What an odd man, Ukitake thought.

* * *

In the morning, Ukitake received some visitors, most were either farm workers or personal servants of the noble family Kyōraku. Shunsui's absence was noted by his attendants, who scurried around the small fortress looking for the young lord and had run to the shrine as a last resort. Ukitake eased their anxieties. Shunsui was safe with him and would be returned. They knew it even if Ukitake could not speak directly to him and departed.

From their thoughts, he discovered many things about Shunsui's family, particularly about his father as the servants were his before they were ever Shunsui's.

The Kyōraku family was satisfied with their fortune, ending a generation of land grabbing and preparing for prosperity. The expansion had ended, but peace was not in their future, not just yet. Many of their servants, particularly the trained militants were restless, either overly vigilant towards the surrounding villagers under their care for whom worked and cultivated the land or too lax in their training, loosening security in ways that would not have been allowed in the past. Thieves flocked to the protected lands in hopes of benefiting from the confusion that the transition had wrought. One successful attempt, although minor (a few missing jewels), and suddenly these attempts came more frequently. News had traveled quickly that the Kyōraku family had chosen to relieve their military forces. False it may be, the rumors had a devastating impact. Encouraged by the the possibility of overtaking the family, youkai and vagrant humans bound together to remove the head of house. The attempts failed, and those involved were executed, but all was not well. Lord Kyōraku's youngest son had been killed.

Lord Kyōraku was enraged. The strict protocols of the old had returned, and the family's reputation as a formidable force returned. Once again, they became a source of fear, and while they upheld that standard, not even the most desperate dared to misstep on their grounds.

But there was a great change in the master, head of house. He began to doubt all except his personal guards. He wondered how it was possible for his child to be sacrificed unless there was great disloyalty among the servants or (and he hoped this wasn't the case although he obsessively suspected it may be) his children. Half a decade later, and no such thing happened again, but as he had feared, the bonds between his children broke, spitting the family into factions.

Lord Kyōraku grew discontent with the few years of peace, for it was not what he had imagined. Although the land grew plentifully with great healthy as did the children of the villagers, his own family was torn apart. He passed away at 45 with chest pains, alone and secure in his chambers, like a bird in a wooden cage, having requested his servants leave him for the day. Perhaps it was for the best. The lord had developed a deep loneliness that couldn't be quenched by entertainers, good food, or great wealth, and it had seemed unbearable. He was ready to rest in a place where he didn't have to feel that desperation to be loved.

The wealth was distributed among the five living children. The eldest was in his thirties, and the second son was nearing twenty, but the rest were still too young to leave their mothers.

That was what Ukitake learned from the servants that prayed at his shrine in the early morning, but nothing was mentioned of Shunsui's banishment. Maybe it was obvious. Everything Shunsui did now was the exact opposite of how he should behave. Even some of the man's servants begged Ukitake to guide Shunsui towards decency.

How would that be possible? Ukitake thought. The man was stubborn. Without even knowing him, without knowing anything else, Ukitake knew he was stubborn, a strong willed goof. But as he were now, Shunsui would fall into decadence as an adult and would consume those around him to feed it.

"I refuse," Ukitake said to the request, but the requester had already left a tray of cucumbers and tai snapper tied with a string. It looked delicious, but he knew that he would not be able to touch it until he fulfilled the request.

 _Such a shame that it has to rot_ , thought Ukitake.

Shunsui was in the other room, still unconscious as far as Ukitake knew. Ukitake suspected the human wouldn't be up until the late afternoon, but at least he wasn't dead.

He was right. Shunsui entered the room as Ukitake heard the request of visitors to his shrine. There was a small pile at one side of the room with offerings that he had earned. Jun had made it his duty to separate and organize the offerings based on their substance. So far, the lion dog had anything gold or silver including coins, nuggets (none of those yet, but the lion dog was prepared for them just in case), and jewelry (also none) in a neat box and food items beside it. There had been quite a number of visitors throughout the month, bringing fruits and vegetables; most of them prayed for great crops that year. Those offerings started to materialize in front of Ukitake, and the wish was fulfilled. Many of the farmers were delighted to see that the soil was great for housing seeds, and that those seeds grew into healthy buds.

"A lot of offerings," said Shunsui, wincing as he entered into sunlight. He groaned, cradling his head.

"Yes," Ukitake agreed. "I can't eat any of them."

"Can you do anything about my head?" Shunsui said, blinking away the sunlight entering through the door's mesh.

"You shouldn't drink more than you can handle, human lord," said Ukitake with a smile, testing out the word "human." It felt odd saying it because the kamisama still felt like one.

Shunsui said nothing to that, only rubbed his eyes and forehead with the palms of his head as he tried to relieve himself of the terrible headache he had acquired. He could barely register what Ukitake was saying. For this, he was glad. Shunsui didn't think he could handle interpreting the young god's words and actions now, if that was needed. And he didn't want to think about reacting, if the young god was taunting him. His head hurt too much.

Shunsui staggered back into the other room where it was dark and cool. He slipped back under the covers and tried to fall back asleep to no avail. The door opened not too long after. His eyes flickered to Ukitake's form entering into the room. Ukitake bent down and sat beside the human, reaching out and hovering his hand over the other's head. It felt like a cool wash cloth to Shunsui, and it eased away the throbbing pain in his head and any tensions within his body. He felt at peace.

"Thank...you," Shunsui mumbled, slipping back into sleep.

Shunsui was a handsome man when he was asleep with the tension around his eyes gone. He had long eyelashes and prominent eyebrows with a tall, straight nose and a full bottom lip. His jawline was well sculpted, almost fully developed. Ukitake found that he quite liked the man's face structure.

Shunsui would be very popular with women, Ukitake thought as he pushed himself onto his feet. He saw Shunsui's chest rise and fall slowly and smiled, feeling glad that he could be of help. He knew how it felt to be on the other side, to be bed-ridden and desperate to relieve the pain. The next time Ukitake walked into that room was to ask Shunsui to join him for dinner, finding the other already dressed and lost in thought. "I should leave," Shunsui muttered, almost a whisper.

The room was dimly lit by lamp, but Shunsui could see the bounty laid on the table. Shunsui prostrated before Ukitake. "Kamisama, please accept my apologies," he begged.

"Do you truly mean it?" Ukitake said, lightly. He was expecting Shunsui to start joking, but when he looked up, Ukitake found Shunsui watching him with look of guilt.

"I apologize for my behavior yesterday."

Ukitake nodded, slowly. He had grown accustomed to Shunsui being playful and, sometimes, even rude and defensive. "Apology accepted. Are you feeling better?" He said kindly.

"Yes, thanks to your kind." He glanced at the table. "Quite a feast," Shunsui commented. "Are these the offerings?"

"A reward for my efforts." Ukitake beamed, proudly. "Will you reconsider joining me?"

"If you insist," Shunsui started.

"I do," said Ukitake, waving for him to take the only other seat, the one beside him.

"You can't touch the food," Shunsui said. "How can you...? Should I feed you?"

Ukitake looked away from the other. "You're not my servant, but will you?"

Shunsui picked up a pair of chopsticks and scanned the table, taking in the sliced vegetables and cooked fish. "Cucumbers," Shunsui asked. "Are those...? Do you like those?"

"Yes," said Ukitake and then. "Relax. I don't bite."

Shunsui picked a slice of cucumbers and dangled it in front of Ukitake, not unlike a fishermen trying to bait a fish. Ukitake broke out into a smile but said nothing, leaning forward and taking the vegetable in his mouth. He bite into the cucumber and chewed slowly, savoring the taste of human food. "Mmm," Ukitake sighed. "It's been so long." His stomach complained, and his mouth started to salivate, but Ukitake waited patiently for another.

Every time the young god sighed and smiled with pure delight with eat bite, Shunsui's heart gave a light twist. It wasn't affection, Shunsui told himself. It was like feeding a lost puppy. Affection was dangerous anyway without caution and even more so here where the boundaries were set deeper than stone. Regardless, Shunsui found himself enjoying the interaction with Ukitake. He wanted to see Ukitake smile more, in that same carefree way, like he was the happiest person in the room, like he had everything and wanted for nothing. Shunsui alternated between feeding himself and feeding Ukitake, who was extremely happy to fill the hollowness of hunger. Ukitake wondered briefly if this was inconveniencing the human. When the meal ended, Ukitake waved his hand over the table, and the dishes were cleared.

"I have no tea to offer you that isn't cold," said Ukitake.

"Cold tea is good," said Shunsui.

The tea materialized. It was lukewarm, but Shunsui was grateful that it was. It was too hot outside for warm tea.

It was getting dark when the dinner was finished so Shunsui say his goodbye to Ukitake, who offered to take him but the human refused, preferring to walk back.

"I've been in bed all day," Shunsui explained. "It's time to use these legs."

Shunsui went hope with a promise that he would join Ukitake for dinner again next month. It was a promise he intended to keep.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please review if you can! :D

I think writing in chronological order is tough for me. I tend to just want to skip around. The writing starts to decline if I force myself to go in chronological order until it's just dialogue, enough to move the scene, because then writing the description seems like work. But it's so easy when I skip around. I have already written several future chapters, but now I have to move the story into that direction.


	3. Chapter 3

Shunsui visited every month like he had promised, and Ukitake welcomed his arrival with tea from the offerings. With the other man's help, Ukitake had his fill from the food offerings. Life had been getting much, much better for Ukitake until he started getting ill, only minor coughs and chest pains, but although it may be common and trivial for humans to get colds, it was abnormal for a kamisama. Jun, the lion dog, was growing concerned for his master but said nothing in the presence of Shunsui, who had noticed it but assumed it was simply another oddity that surrounded Ukitake and nothing serious. The kamisama had started to wonder if he was supposed to indulge that often in food and asked that Shunsui visit less often. Luckily for him, Shunsui refused because Ukitake had started to feel hunger pains more often.

On this day, Shunsui found it funny to treat feeding Ukitake like fishing. He had wiggled a slice of peach in front of the white-haired man and quickly moved it away when Ukitake tried to snatch it. "That's not fair," Ukitake complained. "You're making it difficult."

"I never said I'll make it easy," Shunsui said, keeping it beyond Ukitake's reach.

"Fine," said Ukitake one day. "I feel stuffed anyway." Shunsui replied that he still looked very thin and could use another pastry or two.

A good number of days were spent joking and sometimes sitting quietly, sipping tea and admiring the scenery in each other's presence. Shunsui found that he liked Ukitake's companionship. The other man's hair was white, long, and neat. Everything about him was neat. And his eyes were a beautiful emerald color encased by, and Shunsui laughed suddenly, with mismatching black eyebrows and eyelashes. Ukitake raised his eyebrows, but Shunsui shook his head. "It's nothing." Ukitake was beautiful like a human, Shunsui noted but shook the thought from his head. Ukitake, ultimately, was not human, and their relationship might as well have been that of a human and a dog with Shunsui as the later. It was rude to think otherwise. No, it farther from that. At least, Jun was a spiritual being, not one made of flesh and blood like the mortal Shunsui.

Ukitake told Shunsui his life as disease ridden human, locked up in a shed, helpless to fate and desperately dependent on his caretakers of whom had no blood ties with him. He was a burden to the villagers, and even now as a kamisama, he could not return their favor as all had left the land. He felt guilty.

"You're not that person," said Shunsui, locking eyes with Ukitake with an expression that made the kamisama feel as if Shunsui knew his pain, felt it. "You don't have to be."

"How do you know?" Ukitake said.

"I know," said Shunsui. "I've been there."

Ukitake believed it. He didn't know why it felt so true said from those lips. Often times, he found it easy to tell his tales to strangers with a sort of detachment, as if he was re-telling someone else's story. With Shunsui, it felt personal, and those simple words hit home in a way that it never did with another. Ukitake felt like he could be his authentic self with this man.

"What happened?" Ukitake asked quietly.

"There are things I wish I had done... And if I could go back..." Shunsui broke off the sentence. "It doesn't matter."

"You don't have to be that person, either," said Ukitake.

That felt like a profound moment where Ukitake became aware of the similarities between Shunsui and him. They were men of different temperaments and background, but somehow Ukitake felt, 'He's like me.'

"You're hair is short," observed Ukitake. "Were you banished?"

"Yes," said Shunsui, trailing off.

Ukitake detected that the noble didn't want to continue so stop his questions. Instead, he said, "I think it's time for something new. Maybe a haircut is necessarily. I couldn't cut it when I was alive."

"You're alive now," said Shunsui, eyeing Ukitake's hair with an unreadable expression.

"If you consider this living."

"Do you need help cutting it?" said Shunsui.

"It's alright. I'm not ill anymore," said Ukitake as if reminiscing. "I can cut it."

"I'll leave you alone to do so then. It's about time I head back," said Shunsui.

"Thank you for the meal," Ukitake said.

Shunsui nodded. "No, thanks needed. But...do you like beef? I have some cutlets I can bring."

"Sounds expensive."

"It is," Shunsui boasted. "Some of the best tasting meat you'll find around."

"And what will the wish be?" All wishes were the same price. As long as someone gave some kind of offering, Ukitake could fulfill the request. But he did tend to choose to request the better offerings first so he guessed they should be considered a bribe.

"For you to eat it and enjoy."

* * *

"It's short," said Shunsui the next day. Ukitake had cut his white hair just below his chin. "It looks good on you."

The noble had brought a large platter of cut beef and had intended to build a small fire to roast or cook it in boiled water. It had to be the later as the shrine had no pots, but every time they attempted to set a fire, it went out so they were unable to eat the meat. Ukitake recommended that Shunsui travel down the mountain to enjoy the meat as it wouldn't last that long outdoors in the summer heat. He didn't want Shunsui to lose out on such good pieces of beef. Shunsui refused and had decided to feed Jun the pieces instead.

"Jun!" Ukitake said, delighted, when a idea dawned on him. "You can roast it for us, can't you?"

Jun barked happily, snatching another piece from Shunsui and then puffin out his cheeks.

"What's he doing?" Shunsui asked.

"Jun!" Ukitake scolded. "No!"

The lion dog shut his mouth and whimpered, flattening his ears. "He was about to burn you with the meat," Ukitake explained.

"I'm human, though," Shunsui explained. "Can a servant of yours do that?"

Ukitake paused. "No, I suppose he can't. I'm sorry. I had forgotten." _That I wasn't human_.

The remainder of the beef were roasted, and all three ate until they were full. They downed the contents with a little sake from the offerings closet and watched the clouds moved lazily past the mountains.

Ukitake suddenly felt ill.

"What's wrong?" asked Shunsui. Ukitake covered his mouth and shook his head. He felt similar to being ill as a human, like there was a mucous in his lungs and he couldn't breathe. He heaved and coughed, spattering his hands with blood. Shunsui rubbed his back, and he flinched, fearful that Shunsui would catch whatever he had.

"Shunsui... I'll...be...okay. Go home," Ukitake mustered.

"Ukitake..."

"Please."


	4. Chapter 3, part 2

The pain was tolerable once the panic from the temporary suffocation eased into relief and his lungs took in oxygen. Ukitake turned so that he faced the open doors that aired out his room, for which he was initially grateful for until he heard the swam of cicadas that marked the summer night with a rich symphony of chirps and snaps. He wanted those doors closed, but he had neither strength nor the servants at the moment to achieve those tasks. Where had that lion dog gone? Ukitake mused as he twisted a loose fiber that came undone at the end of the cover.

Thank goodness he had asked the noble human to leave. Ukitake elevated himself onto two legs, his body sweating as if he was doused in water, and gently kicked the covers away as it wrapped around his ankles. He was very aware of the darkness around him, and the prolonged contact with empty space gave the illusion that he had walked for eternity, making so little distance in so much time.

He needed lights. Something.

But it didn't arrive as his beckon. He yelled out a command, "Lights." It was in turn met with no response.

Morning arrived too slowly for his taste, having spent the dark hours ruminating on the nature of mortality and reliving the past as a mortal within the confines of that wooden shed in the small village, where guilt, anger, and utter despair had felt like the same beast. Why had he been stricken with the illness and made to live like a parasite among the living? He wasn't truly living then, but was he now?

By the time Shunsui had arrived in the afternoon, Ukitake had wiped the sweat and blood from his skin with a damp cloth on the brink of mildew and changed into new clothes.

"You're visiting too often," said Ukitake, looking Shunsui straight into the eye and willing silently for the other man to forget about yesterday. "What of your duties?"

"Worry not. I wished to see you," Shunsui muttered, inching closer into the studio where Ukitake sat like a porcelain doll, almost rigid and stiff. "How is your body?"

"Fine," Ukitake whispered and finding the silence between them suddenly stifling he made to speak again. "What you saw yesterday..." He paused, searching for words that weren't so distressed, but they evaded him. "Ah, it was..."

"Unprepared to lie?" Shunsui observed, watching Ukitake with a grave expression that left the other feeling vulnerable. He hoped Shunsui would understand his refusal to be coddled like one on the brink of death. Was there such a need to worry? He wasn't going to die.

"Lie?" Ukitake answered. "No, just tired."

"It looked like you had consumption," Shunsui noted, speaking bluntly. "Do all spirits get human illnesses?"

"All spirits? No. Me? Perhaps. Not sure what is yet," Ukitake raised his chin. "Might just be a cough."

"Is there a cure?" Shunsui asked, ignoring the last sentence.

"Surely, there is. I don't know yet," Ukitake admitted, feeling despair festering inside him in ways the disease never had. He wanted... No... Needed to change the topic. "When do you need to leave?" Ukitake asked.

"Soon," Shunsui said. The dark haired man reached into his pocket and withdraw a ornate bag tied with a red string. He placed it before Ukitake, whose raised eyebrows weren't missed by the other, and explained. "Medicine."

As Shunsui left, Ukitake noticed the broadness of the other's shoulders, the sign of health that the young god lacked as a human. Where Shunsui was robust and sinewy, Ukitake's body was once skin dangerously close to bone.

The man waved as Ukitake in the distance. Was this goodbye?


End file.
